Faced with Makiya's invitation, Tsunade's eyes darted away, unable to look him in the eye. "I... I haven't decided yet."
Makiya shook his head. "Then tell me when you've made up your mind. Barring any surprises, I'll be putting down roots in the Land of Demons from now on. Find me when you're ready."
At noon the next day, the sky was overcast, and a light drizzle drifted down from the clouds.
The training ground within the Uchiha compound was swarming with people. Looking out, nearly two hundred clansmen had gathered at the center. Many young, capable members were determined to follow Makiya, and their families, unable to sway them, had no choice but to pack up and join the journey.
Standing on high ground, Makiya nodded with satisfaction. It seemed his support base was quite solid—far better than Madara's back in the day. He had thought that gathering fifty people would be a victory, but two hundred had shown up all at once.
"It is about time. Let's head out."
Makiya unleashed a massive wave of golden flames, transforming them into a giant golden flying sword that laid across the center of the training ground. Under his absolute control, even the curious children touching the blade felt not even a hint of heat.
To accommodate those flying for the first time, Makiya thoughtfully manifested man-high railings around the flying sword to prevent anyone with weak knees from tumbling off the edge.
As the clansmen boarded the sword, Makiya scanned the area. He could feel a multitude of souls surrounding the training ground—the Hokage's Anbu and the village's Jonin.
The Anbu remained concealed in the shadows, but the Jonin had fewer qualms, appearing openly around the training ground and looking up at Makiya.
Surges of restless chakra were brewing. As Konoha Jonin, they couldn't simply ignore such a large-scale defection and were planning to intervene.
Makiya's gaze swept over them casually, and a massive torrent of chakra erupted, an invisible pressure blanketing the entire training ground.
The Jonin who were still molding chakra felt as if a mountain had been dropped on their heads. Their chests tightened, making it hard to breathe. In their mind's eye, it felt as though a pair of Sharingan had appeared deep within their hearts; one wrong move, and they would face certain doom.
The crowd fell into a heavy silence. The ninjas who had intended to act dispersed their chakra one after another. The pressure Makiya exerted was simply too overwhelming; their biological instincts told them that to strike was to die.
Finally, all two hundred-plus clansmen were aboard. Makiya was the last to step on, his eyes lingering on his surroundings. Every detail of the training ground was etched into his mind; the days of pouring sweat here felt like they were only yesterday.
"Well, let's go."
He waved toward the Hokage Building, and the golden flying sword slowly ascended. Countless smaller flaming swords hovered around the main blade, ready to intercept any potential attacks.
Itachi held his head high, watching the flying sword shrink until it finally vanished from sight, his fists clenched tightly inside his sleeves.
He didn't understand. Why hadn't the surrounding Anbu acted? Why let Makiya lead a group of clansmen away so brazenly? Once the Daimyo demanded accountability, how would Konoha explain this?
Itachi felt betrayed by the Hokage. Black Zetsu was right—Minato's vision was ultimately too narrow; he couldn't see the big picture of the ninja world.
On the flying sword.
Inabi Uchiha approached Makiya, pulling a scroll from his robes.
"Lord Makiya, here is the name list you requested."
"You've done well, Inabi." Makiya glanced at the list and tucked it into his robes.
Inabi took a step forward. "Lord, do you need my help?"
He made a slicing motion across his neck, signaling his willingness to assassinate the nobles.
"No need," Makiya shook his head. "You and Yashiro are the strongest here besides me. Once we reach the Land of Demons, I have more important tasks for you. The priority is to lead these two hundred clansmen and help them settle in. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Lord!"
To spare the clansmen's feelings, Makiya didn't stop once. The flying sword streaked through the clouds, protected by a semi-transparent dome that shielded them from the biting wind.
Early the next morning, the massive sword arrived at the capital of the Land of Demons.
The city hadn't had a specific name before, so Makiya named it Fengdu, and Miroku had no objections.
The overall layout of Fengdu was symmetrical, with the Priestess's palace at the center and buildings radiating outward in layers.
Makiya didn't ask for property deeds in the core area. Instead, he cordoned off a large patch of empty land near the outskirts, right by the upper reaches of the river—very convenient.
The two hundred clansmen were willing to follow because of their trust in Makiya. Regardless of the circumstances, Makiya had to take responsibility for them. Once the flying sword landed, he summoned Inabi and Yashiro. "Inabi, take a few men to clear out the bandits and outlaws in the surrounding area. Yashiro, lead the rest of the ninjas to help the clansmen build houses and living facilities."
"Yes, Lord Makiya!" both replied in unison.
Supernatural power isn't just for destruction. When that power is channeled into construction, the resulting productivity far exceeds that of ordinary people.
The residents of Fengdu gathered around curiously. Once Priestess Miroku announced that Makiya Uchiha would be the State Preceptor, they became very welcoming toward Makiya's kin.
On the other hand, the Ashiho clan showed a degree of resistance. Originally the most powerful nobles in the country, their family status was now in jeopardy. No matter how much they protested, it was useless.
They wondered what kind of spell this Makiya had cast on the Lady Priestess.
Makiya didn't pay much attention to the internal affairs of the Land of Demons. Aside from the demon Moryo, Inabi and Yashiro were essentially untouchable here.
The second day after arriving, Makiya quietly returned to the Land of Fire. He pulled out the scroll and looked at the names on it with a cold smirk.
"Let's see... let's start with the Daimyo."
Inabi had thoughtfully included a sketch of the Daimyo on the scroll to ensure Makiya wouldn't find the wrong person; he was quite reliable.
Traveling alone on his sword was exceptionally fast. In less than five hours, Makiya found the capital of the Land of Fire and emerged from the clouds.
As the most affluent of the Five Great Nations, the Land of Fire's capital was exceptionally prosperous. The massive Daimyo's estate occupied the center, with buildings sprawling outward in layers.
Pavilions and water features crisscrossed the landscape, filled with exotic flowers, birds, and decorative stones. Beyond the Daimyo's estate were the estates of the various nobles. The great nobles might not live in the capital year-round, but they certainly owned property there, often sending their eldest sons to experience the high life.
In reality, these sons were hostages, sent to demonstrate loyalty to the Daimyo.
"Fire Style: Rising Sun Blade!"
Standing atop his flying sword, Makiya clapped his hands together and released a sea of golden flames, condensing them into a massive golden blade. It descended slowly from the sky, stabbing directly into the ground in front of the Daimyo's main gate.
Rumble!
The massive roar echoed outward, instantly spreading through the entire capital.
The commoners doing business in the city collapsed to the ground, mouths agape as they stared at the towering sword, even forgetting to breathe.
Living near the capital, many commoners had never seen a ninja battle. They were paralyzed by the sheer scale of the ninjutsu Makiya had unleashed, not even thinking to turn and run.
The ninjas kept by the various nobles leaped onto rooftops, drawing their weapons and standing ready, yet none dared to launch an attack.
For a monthly salary of a few hundred thousand ryo, who would throw their life away for some noble lord?
The ninjas who made it to the capital were all shrewd; many only cared about money. Fighting and killing wasn't their job—running away at the first sign of trouble was.
Makiya descended from the sky and stood atop the giant blade. His voice, amplified by chakra, echoed throughout the capital. "All civilians, listen up. You have three minutes to leave the city. If you're still here after that, don't blame me for your deaths."
"What is this nonsense? Take my Iai Slash!"
A samurai launched an attack from a corner. Before he could even jump into the air, Makiya flicked a globule of golden flame with his finger. In the blink of an eye, the samurai was engulfed, and his screams rang out.
The samurai's screams seemed to wake the city up. The commoners finally snapped out of it and fled toward the gates, wailing and crying.
Some ninjas, seeing the writing on the wall, vanished into the crowd, planning to stay as far away from this mess as possible.
However, many more ninjas and nobles stayed behind. With so many people in the city, they believed they could overwhelm the intruder with sheer numbers. There was no need to flee.
Within the Daimyo's estate, the Land of Fire Daimyo sat on his divan, ordering his servants to lift his palanquin and carry him to the main hall's entrance.
"Is that the one? Makiya Uchiha?" The Daimyo hid his mouth behind a folding fan, his face coated in so much white powder it looked like a layer of lime.
"Yes, Lord. According to our intel, that arrogant commoner is the criminal Makiya Uchiha," a servant replied immediately. "I will send men to capture him at once."
"Go then," the Daimyo said dismissively.
The servant bowed and retreated.
Just then, the three minutes were up. Makiya's figure shot into the sky, appearing before the Daimyo in the blink of an eye.
The Daimyo hadn't expected Makiya to be so fast. By the time the surrounding samurai guards reacted, it was already too late.
Golden flames erupted, flying swords darted, blood splattered, and limbs flew.
It was a slaughter with no suspense. Makiya was like an adult bullying a newborn; whether they were ninjas or samurai, they were engulfed in flames in an instant, turning into charred corpses amidst their screams.
"I really don't understand." Makiya grabbed the Daimyo by the collar, hoisting the fat pig up with one hand. "Who gave you the courage to force the Hokage to kill me?"
As the Kusanagi Sword brushed against the Daimyo's face, Makiya suddenly caught the scent of urine. Looking down, he saw a brownish-yellow liquid trickling down the man's legs. The Daimyo had wet himself in terror.
"...With this kind of backbone, why even bother being a Daimyo? What a spineless coward." Makiya lost interest; there was no sense of achievement in bullying the weak. He dragged the Daimyo high into the air, a concentrated ball of fire gathering at his fingertip.
"Do you know what kind of ninjutsu this is?"
The Daimyo shook his head in terror.
"This is something I developed recently. You can call it 'Little Boy,' or maybe 'Fat Man.'"
The golden fireball expanded rapidly. Feeling the violent energy from such a close distance, the Daimyo's already powdered face turned even paler.
Makiya's tone was playful. "Of course, mine isn't quite as powerful as the original, but it's more than enough to wipe this capital off the map."
Near the capital, a certain purple-haired beauty was passing through, looking up at Makiya in the sky with a face full of horror.
Konan, the Angel, and Nagato's right hand. She was traveling the ninja world to recruit talent for the Akatsuki, but she hadn't expected to witness something this intense first thing in the morning.